


Co-Alpha

by Blue Dusk (obiwankenboneme)



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Co-Alphas, Co-workers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obiwankenboneme/pseuds/Blue%20Dusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader and Owen are supposed to be co-trainers (or co-alphas) of the girl, but it seems like he doesn't care. Which, of course, means the girls don't, and that's a damper on the readers ego. Is there anyway he can make it up to them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Co-Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> My first Owen fic, and I actually rather liked how it turned out. Hope all of you cubs love it, and feel free to send in requests!

“I was thinking that, instead of using the clicker, we could wean the girls off of it. Like, by snapping our fingers instead of-“ Your head turns, meeting Grady’s backside, which – while it was attractive – wasn’t supposed to be facing you like that. Huffing, you snap your fingers, making Owen jerk towards you.

His eyes snap to yours, noticing the slight eyebrow raise. “Sorry, I was-“

“Checking out the new interns. Yes, I _know_ Mr. Grady,” you snap, fixing your hat on your head as you look down at your clipboard.

He scoffs, making you roll your eyes under the brim of your cap. “Mr. Grady is my father. It’s Owen.”

“I know who your father is, _Mr. Grady_ , but I don’t give a damn. What I care about is being the co-trainer of these girls, and yet all _you_ seem to care about is how good someone’s ass looks in their work-regulated shorts. Can you focus on what I’m saying for _five_ minutes? Please?”

The pleading tone of your voice has him sighing in resignation, his attention now completely on you. Holding up his hand, he unfurls his fingers so all five are standing. “Five minutes. Go.”

“Okay, so I was thinking we could stop using the clicker-“

“Why?”

“So that the girls could get used to us snapping our fingers instead. I-“

“Why snapping?”

“The girls don’t listen to anyone but you with that damn clicker. I’m their co-trainer, I need to be able to control them in the event of an emergency, or when you’re not here. As I was-“

“Then maybe you should just get better at getting their attention. They listen to their Alpha, and that’s me. Your five minutes are up, have a good day Y/N.” Owen winks at you, starting down the steps of the catwalk to the chattering interns.

You gape, fingers clenching tightly around your clipboard. How _dare_ he! He’s treating you as if you have no right to be on the catwalk. Just because he’s the “Alpha”, doesn’t mean he’s the sole one in charge! With a pointed look at his back, you storm in the opposite direction, heading towards the control room. _I’ll show him. They can listen without that clicker._

* * *

It’s been weeks since the incident with Owen, and you’re starting to grow tired of the constant looks he gives you when the girls won’t listen to your commands. Barry and some of the other interns are sympathetic, knowing that it has to hurt to be the supposed “co-trainer” when no one listens to you; not even the goddamn dinosaurs.

As everyone is packing up for the night and heading out, you wave, fidgeting to get up on the catwalk. Owen is talking with someone, but you can’t see who, and you really just want them both to leave at this point. There’s a large part of you that’s really bothered when you see it’s one of the new interns, who’s leaning into his side and giggling. Rolling your eyes, you wait until he’s gone before rushing up the catwalk and whistling for the girls.

“Come on out! It’s just me,” you stage whisper, seeing the flick of a tail in the brushes. A head pops up a moment later, and slowly, ever so slowly, the girls emerge from the brush.

Sighing happily, you look down at your clipboard and then set it by your feet. “Alright, we’re going to run through some exercises. Can you do that for me?”

There’s not any response, but they don’t turn tail and head back to sleep, so you’re certain you’ve got their attention. Raising one hand in a fist, you mimic Owen’s stance, snapping your fingers to imitate the clicker.

None of the girls move, and you sigh. It’s when Charlie begins to get restless and move back that you break. “Hey! Eyes on me!”

It doesn’t work, only making Blue let out a sound, something akin to a laugh, and you frown. You keep trying until you’ve lost everyone but Echo’s attention. She tilts her head, and you smile at her.

“At least you listen to me girl.” Straightening up, you clear your throat, snapping your fingers and watching her eyes immediately dart to you. “And we’re walking!” You move to the right, smiling like a child on Christmas morning when she starts to follow.

You sigh in happiness as you let Echo go, and lean on the fencing. “One down, three to go.”

The sound of a throat being cleared makes you jump out of your skin. You spin around and grab the Swiss army knife in your front pocket. When you see that it's just Owen, you relax, turning back to the enclosure and ignoring him. His boots clank on the catwalk metal, making you wince internally at how the sound cuts through the silence surrounding you two.

His elbow bumps yours as he leans against the rail. Neither of you speak, eyes focused on the enclosure, the sky, anything but the person beside you.

“Echo doesn’t listen to me as well as she does to you.”

The comment startles you, your eyes snapping to Owen, who’s scratching at his jaw as if he hasn’t said a word. You wait a beat longer, expecting something else, but when he says nothing, you groan.

“You can’t even give me a proper compliment, can you? Ya know, I’m beginning to think that you hate me. You have to. At the least, it’s very clear you don’t respect me. That’s the only reason you’d treat me like I’m one of the damn interns who don’t deserve to kiss your boot,” you growl, pushing away from the railing and starting down the length of the catwalk.

The sharp sounds of your boots hitting the metal beneath your feet has the girls whining, bustling out from the brush and watching you and Owen. His fingers wrap around your wrist, gently turning you back towards him. Glaring at him, you want to snap that he’s just a pain in the ass, but he doesn’t let you speak, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.

It knocks the wind out of you, and you push at his chest, taking a deep breath as he retreats and stares at you. Red dusts his cheeks as he takes a cautious step back. Owen is clearly embarrassed, but you don’t let him get far before grabbing his vest and tugging him down to kiss you again. An arm slings around his neck as you press your lips to his hungrily, the other bent between your chests as you clutch at him.

When you finally pull back for air, you stare at each other, eyes wide. “I don’t hate you. I just…I’ve never had to work with someone else who’s so invested in the girls. Like I said, Echo doesn’t even listen to me as well as she does you. I’m always caught off guard by the way you manage to control and demand respect, even when you’re not actually doing anything more than talking to an intern. There’s something about you that just…throws me off kilter. It’s like I’m not fully in control, and it terrifies me.”

You smile at him, and Owen clears his throat, a mischievous look taking residence on his face. “You were talking before about changing from clickers to snapping. Now, I like that idea, but I think we need to consult a little more. Would you like to do that here, or at my bungalow?”

Snorting, you shove him back, shaking your head and letting him take your hand in his. The girls all stare before heading back into the brushes to rest, and you bite your lip. “I suppose it would be nice to see your bungalow.”


End file.
